Third time's the charm?
by Blueberry Absinth
Summary: The first time she kisses him is between the hell and apocalypse embodied. Lelouch, C.C and kisses between heaven and the apocalypse.


**Catalouging all the times that they (almost) kissed in the show, with an additional scene :) Code Geass is not mine. **

...

...

The first time she kisses him is between the hell and apocalypse embodied, in a sweet island of salvation, caught between two seconds. There is nothing but her lips on his, the aroma of ancient and pizza, tinged with a slight undertone of machine oil (the only evidence that she's fighting a war right next to him) and his sharp intake of breath. She's desperate, he's astonished and speechless and the atmosphere is so thick that not only the proverbial knife can't cut through it, but also breaks apart as its solidity.

It all lasts seconds and as she pulls away, the sacredness of the moment vanishes into thin air. Yet, they both know they won't forget what's transpired right now.

She's talking to him, telling him something important; a part of him is registering what she's saying and is even answering, but the most of his being is simply grinning _(smirking!)_ ear to ear. His peripheral sight notices the way the wind blows her hair and makes her uniform billow behind her like wings and sends all that information to his subconscious where it would be examined, re-examined and experienced as though for the first time countless nights.

Now she's gone. However, he presses on, in the opposite direction, with a slasher smile on his face and a manic glint in his eyes, warmed by the simple moment. Protect.

…

…

The second time she kisses him is between death and the apocalypse embodied, as she saves him from a squad of soldiers. Or he saves her, no one's really sure. However, as she falls in his arms, weak and smelling of old machine oil – an evidence that's she's waged a war for far too long – he remembers green hair sailing in the wind, white uniform forming wings behind her and cracked, dehydrated lips (because although he may forget, his subconscious will remember, oh it will remember 'till the end of time and nothing, even the death of his conscious would ever stop it from remembering). He enters a catatonic state of deja-vu: everything around him reminds him of something, something that was once important, yet he can't seem to remember.

All the memories come back, though, as she kisses him with full force, channeling despair and past moments he can't understand why he's forgotten. His eyes widen as he feels the touch of another's skin (and again his peripheral sight notices the way her eyelashes kiss her cheeks and his skin barely registers how her long strands tickle his face and hands) and by the time they close as he involuntarily leans into the kiss, she's already pulling away, watching him with proud eyes.

_Go on, show them what you've got. I know you can._ Her eyes are telling him and although he wants nothing more in the world than to seize her by the arms and– and– he nods and lets a smirk etch over his face (he's too proud to do _that_ anyway and there's so much other work to do).

Oh, he would definitely show them.

…

Everything is crumbling around them, walls, beliefs, worlds, yet as he looks at her, she's almost smiling – almost, it's always almost, more like smirking, but not yet, not so cynic as before, a little bit softer right at the edges –and standing so still, so proud, a constant. Letters from the Latin alphabet are running through his head, flying, arranging and re-arranging themselves, forming words without meaning and sentences without words.

He wishes he understood himself at that point.

Both know that they have no time, they have to continue fighting, even if it's for an almost lost cause, yet they can't even move from their places, eyes locked in a silent conversation.

(hers are have never been so emotional before)

_I have to go. _

_Me too. _

_I don't want to go. _

_Me neither. _

But time's taking its toll, the walls are crumbling, everything is falling to pieces and soon she'll be gone and he needs to do something, anything, just to—

He takes a step towards her and his mouth etches up as she does the same, at the exact same moment, as though they share the same thought. Although he's smiling (_smiling, smiling,_ _he doesn't have the time to lie to himself)_, she seems serious, so very serious and he's never quite noticed before how big her eyes are, how much emotion they keep hidden, how her upper lip quivers just the tiniest amount, despite the fact that his eyes have observed her and only her.

"You know…" he drawled on, in a rare case of emotional bravery, "Third time's the charm, right?"

And right before his head dips down to capture her lips, the last wall is destroyed and there's Kallen shrieking and babbling and babbling and he can't take it anymore and C.C's going away, away from him.

Lelouch grimaces. Soon.

…

C.C. would have liked to say that the clouds look like little lambs, jumping merrily in a sky which wears the colour of a new hope, yet it isn't her style. Clouds are clouds and the sky is a sky. It is Lelouch who has a penchant for the dramatic.

Although the shade of blue is kind of pretty today. Mouthwash-y blue. And the clouds are feeling more like lace rather than giant balls of gas high in the atmosphere.

A small giggle erupts from the back of her throat. No matter what she decides to do, his words continue to haunt her. Really, it's simply because she can't decide if they are incredibly lame or incredibly stupid (and know they are not).

"'Third time's the charm, eeh?'" she laughs and though she wants to keep it to herself, he hears it.

"So, fallen for my amazing dramatic skills?" a deep throaty laugh echoed from somewhere below her, accompanied by the neighing and snorting of horses.

"Nah, not really."

"It looked otherwise."

Which is so not true! There was dust getting in her eyes so she couldn't really see him that well and also there was so much rubble and trash around her that she couldn't have done anything else. Totally!

"Ohh, believe me, I only like the dramatic only when I kiss the main character," she's surprised to hear a chuckle (not a smirk, not a snicker, not a cackle!) coming from him.

"So that's why you refuse to kiss me know?"

She scrunches up her face, but, despite herself, smiles. When did he become so haughty and open-mouthed around her?

Hah, must be the immortality kicking in. It does come in pack with an uncanny skill of sarcasm.

However, she's the one who's lived more and experienced more. She's so better than him.

She lowers her head over the cart, so she's hanging upside down and her face is directly in front of his, her hair pooling in his lap and tickling him. He startled and pulled the reins of the horses by instinct, earning disgruntled sounds of protest, but he managed to get control of the situation (immortality did come with a set of pretty handy abilities). She smirked in his furious face.

"What the heck are you doing!"

"What's the matter, my prince?" C.C. asked amusedly, "Too dramatic for ya?"

And in front of her, she witnessed his eyes fill with the resolve she'd so often seen on the battlefield, but never before in a peaceful banter between them. _Oh, my_…

And then he kisses her, as she's hanging upside down and as he can't see the road ahead of them, not knowing what'll happen to them, caught in a moment between paradise and apocalypse embodied.

…

…

(Even centuries later Lelouch would insist that she did blush at that time. In turn, C.C. would insist it was because she was hanging upside down and all the blood had flowed into her head.)

...

* * *

**Hoho, we have a spiderman-esque kiss. Maybe, if inspiration strikes again, I'll write more of different stories :D :D **


End file.
